The Dragon's Rage
by tc5368
Summary: At a young age Harry lashed out with his magic hurting his brother and damaging his own magic while his brother goes to Hogwarts Harry is shipped of to the Dursleys that is at least until after a beating his damaged magic causes a change. After living in isolation for a year he is pulled back to the wizarding world by the Goblet of Fire. Warning contains graphic scenes early on.


A/N

Welcome the The Dragon's Rage I did try to post 1 earlier version but it was very poorly thought out, (not that this is much better) this is my first fic so don't be to rough with me but I would welcome any criticism or comments that you have also if there are any errors please point them out to me. As I say this is my first Fic so if it will go somewhere I have no clue I hope so but with collage and work it may be a little tricky to keep it going.

Vernon had come home from what had been a truly awful day at work, first he had been passed over from a promotion that he had been sure he would get instead the company went with an outside hire and then his car had broken down whilst returning to little whinging after waiting over half an hour for a mechanic to turn up he was livid. The car was taken to the local garage and Vernon got picked up by Aunt Petunia.

It was safe to say that at this point he was pissed. He knew that somehow the Freak was to blame for his awful day. Despite that fact that he had put him into his cupboard the day before yesterday after he caught him trying to steal extra food, ungrateful wretch.

He barreled into the house and all but ripped the lock open on the cupboard in his anger, Harry was standing in front of the cot in the cupboard punching the cinderblocks, he was coated in a thin layer of sweat as if he had been working out. Vernon ignoring all of this grabbed him by the scruff of his neck and dragged him out of the small room. He then put his meaty fist down sharply onto his back winding him then throwing him out into the living room.

Completely bewildered by the suddenness of the event Harry was momentarily frozen,Vernon grabbed a poker from the fireplace and swiped it right across his upper arm a bruise forming almost instantly from the force used. This was followed by a kick to the stomach.

"You had to ruin it didn't you Freak, my big promotion gone because of you, I don't know when or how but this was you. No more kids gloves."

He hit harry again with the poker right across his shoulder blades cutting deep into his back, and again, and again, and again. Welt after welt, cut after cut, slash after slash were carved into the pale flesh. Vernon had gotten bored by now but not before one last hit for getting blood on the carpet. He roughly harry back into the cupboard just as harry's vision began to fade into sweet, sweet unconsciousness.

Pain that was all he felt, laying on his shallow faded cot in a cupboard under the stairs. It radiated outwards from his beaten back his blood felt hot flowing through his veins. His skin felt to tight as it inched and inched, he couldn't help it, reaching around and digging his broken and cracked nails into the already damaged flesh.

Blood slowly pooling under him, seeping into the heavily splintering floor of his cupboard. Connecting other patches and stains under a curtain of the crimson liquid. Eyes that were scrunched up suddenly opened to reveal brilliant emerald green eyes, he desperately held in the scream building in his throat knowing that if his uncle herd upstairs he would be punished and given his current state the punishment could kill him.

His mind was racing, as young as he was he knew what was going on was wrong, he knew this shouldn't happen even with the incredibly little human interaction since being sent to the Dursleys that he had, this pain felt so fundamentally wrong. His body was ripping him apart. Suddenly the emerald iris of his eyes exploded with nothingness, to say it was black would be wrong it seemed to actively absorb the limited light around it the only way to describe it would be void.

The pain in his back doubled as the skin broke under his fingers as black draconian wings sprung out. The door flew open on the cupboard as the pure white wings unfurled, the skeletal limbs tipped with spines scraping deep gouges in the wall. And the deep purple skin between the limbs throbbed. The pain in his back died away as the areas of his back lacking skin developed a scale like cover over them which was as white as the wings.

He gripped the door frame tightly savoring the absence of pain whilst also trying not to fall over thanks to the new weight on his back. He knew that he had to get out of the house even now he could hear his uncle stirring, thank goodness he was a deep sleeper or else he would already be storming down the stairs.

Not accustomed to the extra weight of his limbs he collapsed onto the floor and crawled towards the plate glass French doors begging that his aunt had been lazy enough to leave them unlocked he pushed against them. He silently thanked whatever power was watching him for his aunts disregard for safety.

But it made sense after all of the rumours that had been spread about him being a disturbed psychopath that assaulted his brother before the age of 6 causing his own parents to disown him and send him to the only other family they had in the hope that tough love would work. It would be fair to say that at the age of 12 Harry No-name was well and truly feared by the neighbourhood.

He of course was deserving of at least a small amount of this fear, after years of neglect in favour of his older brother Henry he had snapped and lashed out with a wave of accidental magic that originated out of him pushing the furniture away and causing Henry to fall over and begin to cry. This of course had caused his parents to react very badly, Henry was the golden child capable of no wrong, the Chosen one, the boy who lived, the insufferable bastard even at the age of 6 .

There was a backlash from the use of such a large amount of uncontrolled magic at that age had repercussions not that Harry could tell but his core had imploded, to the magical scan it would appear as though he had never even had a core in the first place, what the scan could not show was that the essence of the core had been spread throughout every cell in his body charging each limb and organ with an individual miniature core. Apparently his magic was happy to stay hidden and unused in this form until this evening.

The beating had apparently triggered a reaction from said magic affecting every part of his body even adding some extra parts in the way of two new appendages on his back.

To say that Harry was freaking out would be an understatement, he had lived in the wizarding world until just after his 6th birthday but he was a squib everyone had said so his so called parents, his traitorous brother and the healer at the hospital place he was taken to. He had long ago accepted that magic would never be in his life especially since his Aunt and Uncle detested the whole idea so vehemently. Even if he hadn't accepted his squib-hood growing wings was not common place even in the wizarding world. It was fair to say that he was well and truly terrified.

He somehow managed to scramble his way outside and looked down at his hands to see scales slowly making their way down his arms like a swarm of vines growing and thickening completely covering his arms as they made their way towards his hands, they were white but almost translucent barely noticeable but were very slowly becoming more and more opaque, as the scales reached his wrists they become much finer small enough that he could barely feel them. His nails started to darken as well they became a royal purple colour identical to that of his wing membrane.

He looked down and pulled up the hem of his oversized trousers to see yet more scales slithering their way down to his feet. Speaking of which his shoes plimsoles that were about 4 sizes too big for him suddenly began to feel tighter and tighter until purple claw like toenails ripped through the front of the show.

At this point his shirt had been ripped to pieces by his new wings and so he was standing outside in the garden at 2 o'clock in the morning with only a pair on thin pajama trousers on skin covered in the slowly darkening white scales and two giant wings sticking out of his back. He was convinced he must be insane his uncle had finally knocked a screw loose in his head and he was in a coma or something. This simply could not be happening.

He could feel the beginning of a panic attack, his hands or now claws were shaking and his breathing was getting faster and faster. He knew that if his Aunt or Uncle saw him like this they would without a doubt try and kill him, the only reason that they hadn't already was because they got a kick out of beating "one of his kind" they said he was defective to deserved it. Now that they would see he still had magic he had no doubt that they would try to kill him. The attack was getting closer and closer he had to escape get out of there leave with nothing.

An animalistic side of his brain that he had not been aware of suddenly reared its head, sensing what it took as imminent danger it took control. Wings extended it launched him skyward. At the same time unconsciously channeling the magic in his skin to mimic that of a chameleon making him effectively invisible against the night sky. His body however was so drained that soon after taking of his new wing muscles began to strain however he was by now over a forest it looked far enough away from civilisation to appear to the animalistic side of his brain at least to be a safe area.

The less said about the landing the better if you could even call it that. He swooped down in hope of finding a safe area to land and in doing so caught his left wing on an oak tree. He heard a snap and went careening in the forest floor. He skidded using his one working wing as a makeshift air break causing him to start spinning uncontrollably before collapsing into oblivion.


End file.
